CHAPTER IV
THE CAPTURE
Arnold’s gaze sped in the direction indicated, but for an instant the crowd interfered. “Are you sure?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes,” whispered Toby. “I saw him! Now look, Arn!”
Well, whether he was the man who had taken Toby’s purse or not, at least he tallied surprisingly with Toby’s description. He was standing with his back to the counter in front of a fan-shaped display of ladies’ umbrellas, looking impatiently and frowningly about him for all the world like a man kept waiting at an appointment. So well did he look the part, in fact, that Arnold was quite certain that Toby must be wrong. But a closer examination of the man convinced him that he was only acting, for the eyes under the pulled-down brim of a black felt hat darted swiftly hither and thither, reminding Arnold too much of a hawk. Some twenty feet of aisle space, crowded with shoppers, separated the boys from the man in the brown overcoat, and it was only by raising himself on his tiptoes that Arnold could catch brief glimpses of the latter.
“What are you going to do?” Arnold whispered excitedly.
Toby deliberated. Then he shook his head. “I don’t know. If there was a policeman here—”
“They have detectives in these stores, I think,” said the other. “Only I don’t know how a fellow would know one if he saw him.”
“I might keep an eye on him while you found a policeman,” suggested Toby, doubtfully.
“Suppose he went off before I got the officer, though?”